"Tremendous! Fab!" the critics cried, as unpopular culture was opened wide to show the world what wasn't hidden, but up until then had been forbidden. With more open eyes than open minds, the critics searched intent to find the latest act on the borderline between being coarse and showing fine. An image brought to public view that spurned the many to proclaim the few yet processes such that any threat was shown to be simple to forget. And for that falsehood the people flocked to be seen to be relishing what they'd mocked. Safe now the threat was public domain. All the old rebellion was shown to be safe, radical chic for the strong gone weak. Handed on a plate what they were too scared to seek. Dressed in non-conformity the people took the hand that seemed to promise freedom, but they couldn't understand that through the hands of the media and all the ways they are feeding it the content becomes less, not more. Like getting the end result without knowing the score. Music has been raped and shed of all its power by the images fed. Beguiled by smiles presumed to be scorns. They bought the product and the cult was formed. Original music is always born but the way it's produced can make it look deformed. Pity for the rebel who fought so strong to be put in the position where he didn't belong but hoped beyond the vision he'd always had that some kind of good could emerge from the bad.